


Time to Move On

by crzcorgi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 17:31:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18124328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crzcorgi/pseuds/crzcorgi
Summary: Okay, I took some liberty with the Supernatural universe. Ash is a bit older in here to fit my story.





	1. Chapter 1

It was late, the torrential downpour stopping a few miles back. The sky was clearing up and I could see the moon peeking through the parting clouds. I preferred driving at night, less traffic, everything quiet, helping me think. But tonight was different, I had my boys with me, heading to Harvelle’s for a few days. I had promised them some Fourth of July fireworks and all the shit that comes with celebrating the holiday. It had been too long since we did anything like this, years if I was being honest with myself. 

My change of heart on celebrating any holiday didn’t come from within. It didn’t even come from my boys, which I guess it should have, but I had long given up on being the world’s best dad. It started with a call from Bobby.

“Finish the hell up with whatever hunt you’re on and git you and those boys over to the roadhouse, we’re having a get together of sorts, having some fireworks and a bbq picnic. Those boys, shit, you, deserve a break.”

“I don’t know Bobby,” I hesitated, I had another hunt already set up and it could lead to some possible important info. “I’m fucking tied up, maybe another time?”

I heard a sigh through the phone line. “Y/N, she’s gonna be here, I know your boys love her.”

Y/N, I hadn’t heard that name in almost a year. We hadn’t parted on the best of terms. She was a fucking fine hunter, Bobby had sent her my way when I needed assistance with a stubborn ghoul. I was hesitant, I hunt alone, but when I need help, it’s from an older, seasoned hunter. When she knocked on my door and I glanced through the peephole at her, I almost didn’t answer. Until she hollered through the door.

“John Winchester? I’m y/f/n y/l/n, Bobby Singer sent me.”

I opened the door, letting her enter. She looked barely old enough to drive, much less handle a fucking ghoul.

“Got any beer? Or stronger?” She sat down at the kitchenette table, grabbing ahold of all my research.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know why you’re here, your parents must be looking for you. And I’m certainly not going to be supplying a minor with alcohol.” I grabbed myself a bottle, sitting across from her, reaching for my paperwork that she was looking through.

As I was gathering up my papers, she caught me off guard, grabbing my beer. “Thanks old man.” She clicked her tongue, popping the top off the bottle, and drinking the whole damn thing down in one swoop.

“Old man?”

“You must be, if you think I’m that young.” She reached over, snatching my notes back. “I’ve been drinking legally for years, hunting on my own for just as long.” She looked right at me, and I noticed that she might not be as young as I originally thought, and truly quite beautiful. I quickly stood up, shaking my head, and grabbing myself another beer.

The hunt went beyond smoothly, and we decided that since we worked together so great that we’d call each other if we needed help. My boys loved her, always asking when they could see her again. Time between calls became shorter, eventually hunts together becoming commonplace. She was the perfect partner, I didn’t need to worry about her fucking up, we worked together like a well oiled machine. She had my back, and I had hers.

I began to realize that I depended on her. Yeah, hunters need to depend on each other on hunts. But I needed her in other parts of my life. She was perfect with my boys, never overstepping parental boundaries, taking care of them in ways I just couldn’t. And she took care of me too, patching me up after hunts, feeding me meals on days I would probably just forget. And always making sure that I went to bed, getting at least 4-5 hrs of sleep.

And then it happened, Sammy called her “Mommy” My heart clenched, I couldn’t speak. And I did the only thing I could do, I pushed her away. Telling her it wasn’t working, she was too much of a liability. That I dreaded every fucking hunt, wondering if something she would do would cause me to never see my boys again.

She was tough, never shed a tear in all the time I’d spent with her. Could swear like a fucking sailor, down a bottle of jack by herself and gut a werewolf without flinching. But I swear I could see her heart break. She just turned, quickly packing her bags. Starting to leave, she turned just before she went out the door.

“I’m getting another room tonight,” she stopped to stealthily wipe away a fallen tear. “I need to say goodbye to the boys.”

And she walked out.

I couldn’t sleep that night, wondering if what I did was a fucking mistake. But she wasn’t the boys mom, she wasn’t Mary. And until my hunt was over, I couldn’t, wouldn’t, let anyone in. Even y/n.

She came knocking at 7, telling the boys that she had very important business that was very far away. That she would miss them terribly. And they would always be best friends, emphasizing the words and looking at me when she said them.

As she stood from where she was sitting with Dean and Sammy, she turned, “take care of your dad, boys.”

The door closed behind her and both Dean and Sam turned, running into their bedroom, slamming the door. Their cries easily heard through paper thin walls. “Boys...” I couldn’t finish.

Stepping over to the window, I pulled the curtain back to see her climbing into her beat up Jeep. She looked up, right at me. And fucking smiled, a halfhearted, albeit, pained smile. Why didn’t she fight me? Why didn’t she yell? Did she believe me, every stupid fucking lie I laid on her? Every insult, every soul crushing word?

I watched as her Jeep turned out of the parking lot and onto the highway. I let the curtain fall back, turning and walking over to my bed. As I sat down on the edge of it something caught my eye. On the floor, part way under the other bed, the one that y/n had slept in, was a photo. I picked it up and couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. It was all four of us, me, y/n, Dean and Sammy. It had snowed and we were stuck at some podunk motel until it cleared. Y/N had insisted that we make a snowman, each of us. She then had the motel manager pick the best one, with Dean and Sam’s winning. I’m sure y/n had something to do with that. I remembered that day so well, I’m guessing cause it was probably the first time since Mary’s death that I had let go, that I was truly content, at peace.

I laid the photo on the bedside table, laying back on my bed. I had a lot to think about.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I took some liberty with the Supernatural universe. Ash is a bit older in here to fit my story.

I knew the words, what I had said, spewed out, at her, were wrong. So fucking wrong. But I couldn’t follow the path we were heading down. My boys couldn’t become that close to her, they couldn’t become dependent on her. I couldn’t become dependent on her. I couldn’t fall for her. 

But it didn’t stop the dreams, sometimes, nightmares, from coming to me every time I fell asleep. We’d be on a hunt, just a simple salt n burn, maybe a rogue werewolf, nothing too tough. But something would go wrong, and I would be watching her life drain out of her, blood dripping down my arms as I held her, her beautiful full of life y/e/c eyes slowly dimming. Her hand reaching up to gently caress my face, “It’s okay, John, it’ll all be okay.” And right before she’d take her last breath, she would whisper a barely heard “I love you” And it was always too late for me to respond. 

Sometimes, when I drank myself into a sleeping stupor, I would have a normal dream, no monsters to fight, no living out of the Impala, the boys going to school everyday, me to my 9-5 job. I was happy, walking up the front path on a beautifully landscaped lawn, to the front door of a small, but homey house. The door would open, Sammy running out to greet me, Dean not far behind. And she would appear in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron, the biggest beautiful smile on her gorgeous face. But I couldn’t see her whole face, I didn’t know who this woman was. But my feelings for her were so deep, so real. She was my everything. I would take her in my arms, her growing stomach causing us both to laugh. I would lean down, taking her chin in one hand, the other hand rubbing over her bump, and I would place a sweet, yet deep kiss on her lips, hearing both boys moan and making her giggle into my mouth. 

When I first had this recurring dream, I assumed my mystery woman was Mary. But it never felt like her. I loved Mary, I did. But this feeling I had, these feelings, were like nothing I had ever felt before. So fucking special, so indescribable. Then one night, I saw her, everything became clear. My mystery woman was y/n. 

Over the few months I tried to “accidentally” run into her, listening in on hunter’s convos, hoping to hear any information on her whereabouts. But she obviously didn’t want me to find her. I wasn’t even sure why I tried to find her, what I was expecting, but I needed to know she was okay. 

Stopping at the roadhouse six or seven months after she left I got some answers. 

“John, I’m not sure you’re welcome here, man.” Bill greeted me with a smirk and a beer. “Not if the wife has anything to say about it.” 

I took my usual seat at the bar, giving him a questioning look. “What did I do to piss off Ellen this time?” I turned, a slight smile on my face as I watched Dean and Sam trying to wake up Ash who was out cold on the pool table. 

“One name, y/n.” Bill came around the bar, sitting on the stool next to mine. 

Fuck. 

“I didn’t know they were friends, we just were hunting partners for a few months, didn’t work out.” I didn’t lie to him, just didn’t give the whole story. “Why’s she angry, Ellen, I mean? Is y/n okay?”

“She’s in one piece, if that’s what you’re askin’. Not sure I’d call her okay though.” Bill sighed, looking directly at me. “Whatever went down between you two, well, it kinda did a fucking number on her man. She lost her edge.” 

I jumped as I heard the swinging bar doors slam, Ellen entering behind the bar from the kitchen, arms loaded with crates. “William Harvelle, a little help would’ve been nice!” She placed the boxes down, standing up right in front of me. Her eyes narrowing, wiping her hands on her apron, she turned, noticing my boys. Quickly, she buzzed around the bar, coming dangerously close to me, standing in front of her husband who took ahold of her arms as if to hold her back. 

“John Winchester,” my name spewing over her lips like a curse. “You are not welcome here, but seeing as how you have those sweet boys with you I will allow you to stay one night, but that is it. Do you understand?” She was so close I could smell the peppermint gum, the exact kind y/n chewed, in her mouth. 

She moved back from me, Bill’s hands pulling on her. “El, sweetheart, you promised to hear both sides, remember?” Bill tried to turn her around to face him, but she wouldn’t take her eyes, her very angry eyes, off of me. 

After the shock wore off, I spoke. “Can someone tell me how y/n is, where she is?” I was growing concerned. “What did she say? What the fuck happened?” I whispered the last part, realizing that I was raising my voice and saw Dean glancing over at me. That boy is always on high alert for any danger. 

“Look, I'll listen to your version of events, against my better judgement. But only because she spoke highly of you, never a cross word.” She stepped back from her husband, starting around to move around the bar. She stopped at the end, turning back towards me. “Y/N is a good friend of mine, a very good friend. What you did, what you said to her.” She drew in a deep breath, letting it out with a shake of her head. “She might forgive you, but I don’t think I ever can.” 

I looked over at Bill, who just nodded his head, looking over at where his wife was headed. I followed his gaze seeing my boys run up to Ellen, Sammy latching onto her leg, making me grin. 

“Boys, why don’t you head out through the kitchen doors, Jo’s out in back playing, I’m sure she’ll let you play with her new games.”

Bill stood up, patting my shoulder. “I’m going to help El with a couple of things then we’ll be back to talk.” 

I saw Sam start to head out back when his brother quickly stop him by grabbing onto his shoulder. He then leaned down, grabbing his hand and walked him over to where I was sitting. I could see Sammy pulling on his brother’s hand, obviously upset with being stopped. 

“Dad, Ms Harvelle told us we could back to play with Jo, but I wanted to check with you first. Is it okay?” 

“Pwease Daddy?! We can’t wake up Mr. Ash.” Sam looked up at me with those big eyes that y/n said reminded her of a tiny puppy that nobody could resist. She was right. 

“Sure boys, but be on your best behavior you understand?” 

“Yes, Dad.” I watched closely as Dean caught himself before rolling his eyes at me. 

“Daddy, look!” Sam was pointing at something sitting on chair across the room. 

“What?” I couldn’t make it out. 

Sam took off, running over to grab what I now could recognize as a bag of some sort. As he tried to pick it up, it fell to the floor. I heard Dean scold him for dropping it but then he helped carry it over to me. I couldn’t figure out why Sammy, and now, Dean, were so interested in this bag. Until the boys dropped it at my feet. I instantly recognized it. 

“It’s y/n’s, Daddy, she must be here! Right?” Sammy was now bouncing up and down, one hand on my leg, the other grabbing onto his brother. “I miss her!”

Dean looked up at me, then back at Sam, “Doesn’t mean she’s here, Sammy, maybe she forgot it.” 

“Uhoh, it’s gots something all over it.” Sammy was examining it, his small hands running over the side of it. 

“Uck, get yer hands off of it, Sammy!” Dean grabbed his brother’s hands, pulling them away from the bag. “That’s blood, Dad.” Dean looked up at me with a worried expression. 

I leaned down to grab it, realizing that Dean was right, it was fucking dried blood, and I felt my heart jump up into my throat. But I knew that I couldn’t panic, not with the boys right here. Besides, Bill and Ellen knew where she was, knew she was okay, right?

“Yes, it is blood,” I placed the bag upside down on the bar, hiding the stain,”but I’m sure it’s nothing to be concerned with. Y/N is fine boys, just go find Jo and have some fun.” I patted them both on the backs, encouraging them. Dean looked at me, trying to read my expression. And I was hoping he couldn’t.


End file.
